Like Nine and a Half Weeks
by transmuting
Summary: Tony and Ziva go out and dancing and one thing always seems to lead to another.


The steady beat of shoddily remixed pop music blasted through the night club. The dance floor was filled with sweating, gyrating bodies, clinging to one another and moving with the low bass line. Each person seemed more drunk than the next and the smell of natural pheromones and alcohol mixed together to leave a rather classic scent that was just so very... _cheap bar_. The DJ was mediocre at best, the chairs slowly falling apart, but the booze were priced just right. It was probably the only reason that the nightclub was still even in business amongst the nicer joints of Washington D.C. It was certainly the only reason that Tony kept coming there anymore, now that he was out of the habit of sleeping with the easy alcoholic women that he had picked up here years before for one night stands.

Tonight, he wasn't alone however. He had somehow managed on a Saturday evening to talk Ziva into accompanying him to this dilapidated dance club under the guise of wanting to have a relaxing time with a friend. She'd laughed at the choice of words, of course, as the two rarely acknowledged being anything other than coworkers, but in the end, she'd agreed. The two sat in a booth a bit farther away from the center where the dance floor was located, bent over the table, slightly tipsy at this point, and laughing over the story Tony had decided to share after his third beer. He certainly had a few from his sexual adventures and he'd decided to share one of the earlier ones.

"So she just _left_ you there?" Ziva managed between giggles, her hand going to cover her mouth lightly to try and stifle them. Tony loved being able to make her laugh and took the opportunities to do it whenever he could.

He snorted into his hand lightly, taking another long sip from his drink, finishing it off. Placing the empty glass to the side, he licked his lips to get the last of the alcohol from them and finally turned his eyes back to Ziva. "Yup," he gave a dramatic nod to emphasize the point. "Girls are teases, I know, but given that she was the one who'd driven us out to the park nearly ten miles from my house? It was like being left up shits creek without a paddle. With a hard on. And now no pants. Hitchhiking would've been pretty hard to do, given the circumstances."

She laughed merrily into her drink, finishing off her own as well and placing the empty cocktail glass down beside his. She was clearly lightheaded, the alcohol finally having hit her head and leaving her in a state of total enjoyment. She shook her head lightly, wagging her finger at him with a small smirk on her lips. "Oh, Tony. You were too young for her anyway. Fourteen? Wasn't that a little soon for oral?" She laughed again, before giving a fake pout and patting his hand. "Poor boy, though. You must have been crushed."

He grinned sheepishly, shrugging and ordering another set of drinks for them both. He had always been good at holding his liquor and he knew that she was at least somewhat of a match for him - if not more capable. Shrugging again, he leaned back in his seat. Ziva muttered a quiet thank you as the waitress walked away, shaking her head some.

"She was sixteen, she could have guided me with her _experience._" He licked his lips thoughtfully, staring at her as he said the word. Pausing after a moment, he leaned forward, pointing a finger at her. "And you know - it's great to me that you don't care. That you get why it's 'poor boy' and 'too young for her!' Everyone else I talk to lately would've probably just said I was too young in general. Or that I shouldn't've been thinking about it or..."' He waved his hand, dismissing the ramble, and pointing again. It was getting more difficult to form complete thoughts at this point. "You! You _get_ it."

Ziva licked her lips a bit, leaning in so that she would meet Tony half way across the table again, a flirtatious smirk on her face. Her eyes sparkled with amusement as they looked him over, placing her shin in her hand. "Who am I to judge? Sex is an awful lot of fun, Tony - and those who say otherwise are not doing it right." She tapped his nose lightly, before leaning back into her chair again. "So what is it that I 'get'?"

Tony had a tendency to talk with his hands - a habit that became exaggerated the more alcohol was put into his system. So he threw his hands in the air as she spoke, before pointing again with what seemed like much importance. "That! That's what you get! That sex is _fun!_ People... They take it so fucking _seriously_ and..." The waitress returned with their drinks as he spoke, placing them down onto the table. Tony grinned up at her, winking as he took his drink and sipped from it. She rolled her eyes, walking away again, and Tony sighed, shaking his head as he looked back to Ziva.

"What was I saying again?" He wrinkled his forehead as he tried to think, before slapping the table. "Right! I get that it's some great romantic ideal to wait until marriage, for your one true love or whatever, but... but come _on_. You don't buy a car without taking it for a test drive first, do you?" Ziva grabbed one of his waving hands to stop it from hitting her, lowering it back to the table. "Why would you do the same with a person? Signing yourself over to someone who physically could just not be made for you would be... It would be..."

She chuckled as he tried to finishing his sentence, shaking her head as she sipped her drink. His grandiose behavior was amusing to her and his points were as valid as any she could think up herself. "No - no, I do get it. I do. People do not just sit - or, should I say lay? - back and go with the flow. It is... a shame, really. I think they could have quite a bit more fun if they did."

It was then Tony noted that she was still holding his hand, stroking the skin lightly with her thumb. Smiling lightly, he looked at the table almost sheepishly. It was strange what even the lightest amount of affection could do to him, especially when he didn't have the resources to act nonchalant about it.

She let the straw of her drink slide over her mouth some before dragging it between her teeth, sipping lightly, and his eyes were immediately caught on the action. He knew she was well aware of the suggestive action it could be with the topic at hand and he licked his lips absentmindedly as he stared. Moving himself slightly closer to her, he tilted his head, his lips twitching in a slight smirk.

"Not to mention just how good it can feel when you find someone who knows what they're doing."

She smiled lightly, tilting her head and watching his eyes darted to her neck as it elongated. She was well aware he found her attractive and was using it to her utmost advantage. "So what is this all about, Tony?" she murmured, moving her hand finally from his and going up to run it through his hair. "Are you finding women don't understand you?"

He laughed slightly, grabbing his drink with his now free hand and trying to ignore the shiver that went through him at her touch. Taking a long sip from his beer, he tried to focus on the light burning in his throat as the dark stout went down. Lowering his glass finally, he nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, that's exactly what I'm saying. The female mind is a... confusing and strange place and they seem to think totally opposite what I do. I've learned to master what they want to hear, what they wish I was thinking and pretend that I am but... It gets so _tiring_, you know? But if I act like myself with them I get situations like..." He trailed off, laughing, "Like the story I was telling you about. Girls ditching me on the side of the road and taking my pants with them." He leaned into her again, his arms resting on the table and his forehead eventually pressing against hers when he was close enough. "But it's not like that with you. You don't care. 'Cause you -."

"'Get it'?"

"_Yes_."

His face lingered close to hers for a moment, the two of them staring rather intently into one another's eyes. His lips were hovered inches away from her own, aching lightly to lean in just the few centimeters to close the gap, but he resisted. He didn't know why, given that the alcohol content in his system should have pulled down any hesitancy he normally had thanks to Gibbs and Rule #12, but he couldn't get the courage.

Tony's mind instead latched onto a distraction; the steady beat of some Lady Gaga song rang through the club and he quickly jolted up from the seat, leaving Ziva lingering in her spot still, slightly dazed and certainly confused. She had been hoping he would finally do something, finally get the guts to just go for what they both wanted. She was tired of being the one to take the first steps, but because of it, they had stopped moving all together.

"Come on, Shakira," he slurred, grabbing her hand and tugging her towards the dance floor. "I wanna see you _move_."

"You saw that?" she murmured to him as she let him pull her up, her brows arching in disbelief. She had been so sure he had been focused on his work, focused on thoughts of Jeanne, even, and hadn't allowed himself to stray.

"Saw what?"

Apparently she had been right.

"Nothing. Nevermind."

"Saw what, Ziva?"

"Do you want to dance or not?" she teased, pressing her body briefly against his before heading onto the dance floor on her own. Tony groaned softly, praying to whatever sort of God existed that he could control himself, and followed after her.

Finding her amidst the crowd of people, he pulled his arms around her waist, tugging her close to him so her back was against his chest. Their hips moved in unison to the beat of the music and she clasped one of his hands to spin herself around. Now pressed front to front, they kept their eyes on one another as they danced to the fast-paced rhythm of the music. She pulled away eventually, moving away from his body and dancing just out of his reach. She had had experience in this, clearly, and it was no surprise as a few heads around them turned to watch as well.

He swallowed roughly as he watched her dance, his eyes not leaving her and taking in the image in an almost hungry and greedy fashion. He glanced at people around them subtly now and then, almost wanting to make sure no other man had his eyes on her as in that moment, with the few drinks he had and the comfort level they felt, he was almost... possessive. A free show for any other made him feel fire in his veins and there was little way to quench it.

Licking his lips, he pulled her close enough once more to press his hips into hers, moving to the beat of the music with her and enjoying the feeling of both her body and the heat radiating from it against him. He had always known why they called sex a dance, but something like this always served to remind him just how true a statement it was. "Not bad," he muttered.

"You too," she said with a smile, her hand coming up to slap his cheek gently. She could feel the effect of how much he had enjoyed watching her pressing against her as she moved in close and a small smile came to her lips. Whether or not they did anything, knowing that she could arouse Tony left her feeling quite accomplished. She made no mention of it, however, not wanting to embarrass him. If he wished to take care of it, he would come to that conclusion on his own.

The music began to slow as it faded into a more romantic song - not quite slow enough that people could only do the traditional rocking dance that people were famous for mastering in middle school, but slow enough that getting close and holding one another was an easy option. Tony's hands lingered at her waist, his forehead resting against hers and their bodies moving gently to the rhythm of the music. It intentionally set a mood of romance and many couples vacated the floor to go sit out until the fun would begin again.

"Ziva..." His voice was quiet, hushed, as though if he spoke above a whisper the entire atmosphere would shatter and he would have to let this all go. His eyes closed, his heart rate increased despite the fact that physical movement had come to a near halt now, and he could feel butterflies in his stomach. Ziva only gave a small murmur of a noise to acknowledge that she'd heard him. She seemed as relaxed in his arms as he felt holding her there. "I..."

He stopped. He didn't know how to finish that sentence. He what? He liked her? Cared about her? Wanted to finally cross that damned line they'd hovered around these last few years but never actually gotten the guts to cross? Or had the words that stuck in his throat been even deeper than that; held more meaning. Four letters had never been so hard for one man to say. So he stood there stupidly, looking into her eyes, trying to find a way to finish what he wanted to say without getting overwhelmed or ruining everything.

He had nothing. She was waiting for something, waiting for him to make a move, and he was frozen. His mind spun, his body told him to react, and he did the first thing that came to mind.

He bent down and he kissed her. It was gentle at first, his lips pressing cautiously against hers in case she pulled back and hit him. But as she moved her own mouth against his, the gentle nature disappeared. Her tongue slid out, his came to meet hers, and it became swallowed in passion. It was rough, desperate, and the way their hands moved over one another's bodies, clinging to fabric, pressing, grabbing, groping - it became more and more evident of what the other wanted - no. It was beyond that now. It became more evident of what the other _needed_.

Tony's logical mind started to bring up the fears. The consequences for his actions spun through his mind and with a slight grunt of frustration, he pulled away. As he stared down, Ziva could see the fear in his eyes. The confusion. She sighed, wondering why she had even bothered to react when he had made it clear he was not ready for such a step. Clearing her throat, she smiled.

"I will get my coat. You can walk me home."

Tony nodded and went to wait by the door. He jingled his keys gently in his pocket. His body ached and he felt like he was on fire. Luckily, he could hear the soft sound of rain through the door and knew it would provide a wonderful way to cool off as they walked home. He pushed the door open slightly, letting the soft breeze blow onto his face, and exhaled slowly.

"Are you ready?"

He whipped his head around to see Ziva standing there, looking at him somewhat oddly, and he nodded. He held the door open for her with one hand. "Hope you don't mind getting a little wet," he said teasingly as she stepped out into the rain.

She wrinkled her nose in distaste. "I have been through worse."

The two stepped out into the night, the water pouring down over their clothing causing it to cling to their bodies like second skin. Tony's white shirt became practically invisible, short of the way the fabric wrinkled some against him and the collar of the shirt that hung around his throat. Ziva's black coat shielded her mostly from the rain, but her hair stuck to her face, and she shivered gently.

They walked in silence - a heavy one, not of understanding or ease, but where they knew anything could break the comfort level they had come to with one another. A fight could spur from pent up desires, ones they had tried to act on and failed. A bickering match could turn ice cold. They'd been through this before and neither wanted to go through it again. Neither wanted to destroy what they had worked so hard to begin. But the option to save it all was just as frightening, just as unsure.

Tony came to a halt, his breathing somewhat heavier than it had been moments before, his eyes shutting as he thought of all the things he'd wanted. All the things he needed from her. He thought of all the rules, all the lectures he could get if they were caught, all the trouble they could get into. He weighed it against the desperation and the consequences of _not_ acting on it as well. Did he want to lose her again? Did he want something to happen and for her to never know how much he'd wanted her? Cared for her?

"Tony?" Ziva's voice was quiet and worried. She took a step towards him, her hand resting on his chest and it was then that his eyes shot open. He was looking at her with apprehension, with fear and confusion as he had back in the club, and Ziva wondered how they had thought they could walk away from that normal. She swallowed, shaking her head and looking away. "If this is about the kiss, it doesn't have to mean-"

But he didn't let her finish. His lips were on hers again, his hands holding her close. They had started something they couldn't stop back on the dance floor and both felt ridiculous for having thought they could just ignore the way they had reacted to one another. Ziva moaned against his lips as his hands gripped at her breast, his touch far from as gentle as it normally would have been. Gentle wasn't what they were going for anymore - slow and steady, romantic... It just left more room to think. To back out. He pressed her against the wall of the building, one of her legs immediately hooking around his waist. The side street was nearly empty, but they could hear the occasional cab from near by whirring past. They could hear the steps of pedestrians heading between bars or to all night Subways and ice cream parlors. They could hear the whir of sirens from police cars and ambulances as they sped to their needed destinations.

"Over here," he grunted, pulling away from her and dragging her to a nearby back alley for a shop that had been closed since six. It wasn't the cleanest, nor was it the most spacious alley, but it was concealed and available. Heading home was not an option anymore. Home was too far. A hotel was too far. He needed her here - he needed her _now_.

The rain continued to pound against their skin as she nearly ripped the buttons from his shirt to get it open. Her fingernails dragged over newly exposed flesh as her lips pressed roughly into his once more. Tony picked Ziva up into his arms, her legs wrapping around his waist as he pressed her against the stone wall behind them. She bit roughly on his bottom lip to urge him forward and he waisted no time as he slid his hand over her thigh, pushing her dress upward.

It was no surprise when he pushed her underwear to the side that she was already wet. Perhaps not as wet as she could have been if they prolonged foreplay and teased one another further, but wet enough that he could easily slide his fingers over her. As he felt the rain pour over his face, he couldn't help but laugh lightly.

"Y-You know," he stuttered out, his voice raw and laced with desire, "this reminds me... Of a scene in the - in the uncut version of... Of _Nine and a Half Weeks_ with um - M-Mickey Rourke and... Kim Basinger..." He closed his eyes, exhaling roughly as he rubbed his finger over her clit, her stifled moan making him ache further. "Where they're... in an alley after a fight with a robber and - and -" His fingers slid inside of her quickly, her body accepting them readily and tightening around them as to not allow them to leave. She was hot, tight, and wet - all for him. "You know it... It doesn't really matter," he muttered quickly before capturing her mouth in a kiss once more.

His fingers moved quickly inside of her, his hand angled so his palm could rub her from the outside while his fingers worked for a way to touch her deeply. She pressed her head back against the wall, his name spiraling out in a pleasure filled whisper. She didn't know how long she could wait for more. Years of pent up need were quickly boiling over and she moved her hands downward to quickly undo his fly. She needed him inside of her filling her - and luckily he seemed to get the message.

A whimper escaped her as his fingers left her body. He kissed along her jaw and neck as he went to ready himself, moaning against her flesh as he stroked his arousal lightly with the wetness on his fingers. It felt incredible and he knew it was only going to get better. Pressing her against the wall a little more securely, he readjusted enough so he could align himself to her entrance. It was then that he paused, looking up to catch her glance, to give her one final chance to say no. Both had reached a point of no return long ago and she gave a quick, solidifying nod.

It was all he needed.

He couldn't stifle the cry that escaped him as he thrust inside of her. His hands gripped at her waist roughly and his body felt as though it could explode right then. It had been so long since he'd been inside of a woman and getting to be there with Ziva, here and now, was an overwhelming amount of pleasure. He stayed still for a long moment, trying to regain the ability to think, to breathe, or to even just get his body to move again. Nothing seemed to want to work as his mind wrapped itself around how good it was. How perfect she felt.

"Are you... okay?" Ziva's voice was slightly edgy, despite her concern. While it felt great to linger on the first thrust, she was not a patient woman when it came to waiting for more.

Her words were enough to spur him back into the moment, however. Enough to get him to focus. "Yeah. Yeah - I'm good," he muttered. He placed one hand under her hip, the other resting against the wall, and slowly began to pull himself out and push just as slowly back in. Each thrust increased in speed. Each one gained intensity. Within a few minutes, he was practically pounding inside of her, and he was sure if the rain pouring down over him hadn't been there, he would already be covered in a layer of sweat. They tried to stifle the guttural noises that fought their way to the surface, only allowing the occasional grunt or muffled moan to echo around in the alley way. Each thrust brought them closer and closer to the edge and Tony found it hard to hang on. He whimpered and Ziva dug her nails into his back.

"Not yet. Don't... don't you dare... without me..."

Her hand disappeared between their bodies, going to rub her clit with her fingers. It was the needed sensation, that small push that would help her get closer to that peak. She bit on her lip, closing her eyes, and slowly but surely, she felt that tightness coming. She clamped around him quickly as her body finally fell over the edge, spasming around him. Her body stiffened, her eyes nearly rolled into the back of her head, and she could feel her toes curl gently.

It was that push that made it impossible for Tony to hold back. He spilled inside of her, thrusting deeply, and pressed his face into the crook of her neck. Neither made a noise as they came, their grips on one another tight and possessive.

When it finally ended, Tony collapsed against her. He panted heavily, trying to regain composure and still hold her up. Slowly, once she was sure she had feeling in her legs again, she let him lower her down onto the pavement. Her shoe had fallen off at some point and she bent down to toss the water from it. Slipping it back onto her foot, she readjusted her clothing. Tony slid himself back into his pants, zipping it quickly. He buttoned his shirt up with the buttons that remained and sighed as he leaned back against the wall again.

Neither spoke. The silence was comfortable this time. It was easy and held an air of understanding. Comfort. Tony smiled and broke the moment with a muttered, "Wow." Ziva took his hand in hers gently and the two made their way out of the alley without a word, heading back for her apartment for a warm shower, dry clothes, and what would possibly be the best sleep of both of their lives. In the morning, neither would really address the issue. Tony would use his emergency bag from his trunk - one that held a suit and tie in case of unexpected 'sleep overs' - and would head to work first. If he avoided, it would be awkward and strained.

But for now, in that moment, as they walked along the streets of D.C. in the rain with their fingers entwined, everything was exactly as it should be.


End file.
